


That thing that you do.

by QCumberShaw



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QCumberShaw/pseuds/QCumberShaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, this is my first ever attempt at fanfic. TBH I wasn't that into the idea, but I clicked on some links to here and was amazed at how good it is. Love the Bond/Q thing, it's certainly tickled my fancy. So I thought I'd have a go.</p>
<p>So, it's a rambling piece about them getting together.</p>
<p>Hope you like, any comments most welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bond walked smoothly over to the appointed spot, ignoring the fact that the space for his contact was already occupied. He knew his presence could make people feel uncomfortable if he so desired, when he didn’t want them near him, so he sat down without a glance or apology. To his surprise, the man turned and started talking to him. He tuned in, while at the same time scanning the room for his contact.

He had dismissed him without much of a glance, his years of experience marking him out as a non threat. Once he begun speaking to him, it became an issue, as his contact might feel compromised and he’d leave. But despite that risk, he found himself listening to his words, his soft voice and responded. He’d realised from the man’s glance that he was talking about the painting facing them. He frowned, muttered an off the cuff remark and rose to leave. The man’s next words stopped him and he turned and looked straight at him.

A familiar sensation rose in his gut, the circumstances, however, were not the usual ones. The man’s eyes flickered over him with a mix of amusement and challenge. He knew that he’d been wrong footed.

“Q."

Oh god, he was his new quartermaster and that meant a deep and at times, intimate working relationship. He had to trust this man with is life and he would already know everything about him. His mind flipped across his usual methods, yes, he would know literally everything about him.

That wasn’t usually a problem, he had to dissociate himself from what ever he was doing to function, there was no room for coyness nowadays with the sophistication of the surveillance devices they employed. And frankly, it didn’t matter, so why was he even minutely concerned.

He glanced at Q. God, he looked so young, but he was head of Q branch, M must know what she was doing, he wouldn’t be there otherwise. He looked so young, haphazard, beautiful. Bond swallowed and composed his face as he made a sarcastic point about his youth and lack of experience. Q retorted about how much damage he could do with a laptop in his pajamas. A thought rose unbidden in Bond’s mind. What the hell... His self control over his emotions stopped a tell tale flush of desire from giving him away. He glanced away. The image in his mind of him slipping his thumbs into the waistband of the man’s pajamas was pushed back into the depths from whence it had surfaced.

As Q went through his brief and handed over his equipment, Bond watched him closely. His eyes flickered behind his dark rimmed glasses as he talked. At times he held Bond’s gaze, he wasn’t awed by him and his retorts suggested he wouldn’t, or would try not to, let Bond get his way. At least, not without a fight. Bond’s lips twisted in a thin, wry smile at that. Catching his expression, Q looked uncertain for a moment, pausing for a fraction of a second, his eyes fixed on him, seeming to weigh him up, before continuing. Q looked down into his case, his long slender neck bent forward. Bond stared at it and the nape where his dark hair curled slightly and swallowed. Shit.

Well, this was unexpected. He was used to flirtations with some of the staff. Moneypenny being the most longstanding, but that was as far as it went in terms of work place liaisons. Sex was kept impersonal and distant, it was too complicated and painful otherwise. For his and their sake, it was the way it had to be, he couldn’t function and do his job properly otherwise. So why was he looking at his young quartermaster and thinking of taking his clothes off?

Q had arrived early. He knew who he was meeting, what he looked like, ate, his likes, dislikes, whole history and even his sexual conquests. That was quite a list he thought as he scrolled through the images of the beautiful women that Bond had fucked. It was rather a risky undertaking on their part as shown by the fact that about half were deceased. He knew that was about par for the course with the 00s, so there were few surprises in his files. They were cold, emotionless killers, who were very good at their job. As was he. Bond just didn’t know that yet.

His eyes flitted around the gallery. He did a circuit, gazing at the paintings before he approached the bench. He didn’t like to be exposed for too long. You never can tell. As he walked to the middle, he spotted Bond at the end of the next room.

He sat as he took in his first impression from that fleeting glance. He owned the space as he walked. He was totally at ease with his body and his suit just underlined his... Q thought as his brow furrowed...his sheer masculinity. Well, so much for just blending in. He looked at the painting in front of him as he sensed Bond approach.

So, strong first impression, he thought as he started speaking. The thing was Bond was giving off a strong, get out of my space vibe, I am the alpha male and Q realised that talking about paintings was probably not the best opening. Nevertheless, he ploughed on, hopefully conveying an air of culture and knowledge while at the same time thinking, ‘shut the hell up’, He turned at looked at Bond with a smile, waiting for his response. Bond gazed cooly at him, his eyes cold and fiercely blue and Q struggled to remain calm. Christ, he was just being polite as he replied, if he was pissed off with me...

“007.”

Q looked calmly at Bond and introduced himself. He was pleased by Bond’s surprise, it was as he expected and he smiled inwardly. One nil to me. But Bond was good with his ripostes and they grinned at each other.

That went well, he thought as he rose to leave. He exhaled as he felt the tension in his body release. No, it didn’t. Yes, he had got the upper hand and Bond knows I’m capable, but it was far too personal. He’d wanted his approval. He pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. Pajamas, while the hell did I mention them? He shoved his hands into his pockets as he left, aware of a warmth in his groin. As he’d pictured himself in bed hacking a system as was often the case, the unbidden thought of Bond being there with him had flashed into his head. It had taken all of his control not to show any response as he spoke. The rest of the briefing was therefore rather fraught if he was honest with himself, though outwardly it went well.

He’d been conscious of Bond’s gaze on him at times. No doubt he was weighing up how much he could trust him and his manner was totally professional. Fortunately, they’d seemed to warm to each other by the end, which was good, but that wry smile he had caught had rather thrown him.

Had his needing to look at Bond, his surreptitious glances been noted? He walked out of the gallery, checking for tails as he made his way back to MI6. He didn’t really do relationships, too busy with his work for that and certainly no work based ones, that was totally off the cards, too much fall out. And as for one of his agents, he laughed out loud to himself, and Bond, no fucking way. Not that he would be interested anyway. He’d seen that Bond had a few male encounters in his line of work, there was little evidence of any inclination towards men.

So why was he thinking about Bond’s eyes, his hands, his body as he walked back. Thank god he’d had his case on his lap when he’d looked into his eyes, as he’d gone hard as soon as Bond had returned his gaze and smiled at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which tension mounts and innuendo abounds...

The mission had sort of gone well.

The terrorist had been apprehended and the country was safe, but M... Bond had allowed himself some quiet mourning. She had been an excellent boss and a friend, as much as he could allow such luxuries. The new M was more than capable and he was beginning to make his mark, the initial ‘dead man’s shoes’ phase was passing and things were back to business.

His mind drifted as he shaved. His new quartermaster had been very good and he now trusted him completely. He was excellent at his job and he understood Bond completely. They made a deadly team and they could and often did, tell each other to fuck off when necessary.

On the couple of occasions they’d met since the first time, he’d been outwardly professional in their dealings with each other. Internally it was a different matter. He was more prepared on his second meeting and was more discreet as he looked at Q. He’d been standing, coatless and Bond could see how slender he was. He could snap him in two. His eyes were beautiful, but he wouldn’t hold his gaze and the reflections from the various screens and lights made it difficult for him to see them. So he watched his lips as he spoke instead. They were so red. Q had absently chewed on his thumb at one point and Bond had to hurriedly focus on the equipment rather than take it into his own mouth.

Once the mission had started, he was totally professional, he couldn’t afford distractions. But in the quieter times when he could relax slightly, he welcomed the sound of his soft voice in his ear and he would bait him and they would spar and it was wonderful. But he didn’t let on.

They hadn’t seen each other since the debrief and it had been over a month now, but he had to go to Q branch today for something. M had mentioned it in passing, he’d no idea what it was, he’d barely noted his words. He’d been thinking of reasons why he’d need to go there and none had presented themselves until now. He wiped his fingers over his cheek and jaw. Totally smooth. Q looked like he’d be barely old enough to shave, but Bond knew he had a dark stubble by evening. He walked into the shower as he imagined the feel of his rough stubble against his skin as they kissed. Christ.

Q sat in his office sipping his tea. Should I be standing or sitting, in here or outside with the equipment? He closed his eyes. Bond was coming in soon and he was a wreck. After the tension of trying to keep him alive...he knew he was reckless, but Christ Almighty, he’d wanted to scream at him to stop him at times, but he’d remained professional and guided him and brought him back. Internally, he’d almost wept in gratitude at the debriefing and as a result, bawled Bond out at what he’d done with his equipment. They hadn’t spoken since. Instead Q had gone home every night and fantasied about Bond wanting him despite no indication of any such desires on his part. He’d dreamt up scenarios where they had to be alone together and nothing had been forth coming, so today’s chat about a new type of transmitter was causing Q to become a nervous wreck. The phone rang and he jumped, then his heart raced, what if the meeting was going to be cancelled? Instead it was one of his staff needing a chat about some coding. He told him he’d be right out and sighed in annoyance as he walked out of the office and over to his desk. Hopefully it’d only take a few minutes. He bent down and looked at the code. Hmm.

Bond walked into Q branch, as usual the main area was relatively quiet. Most of the staff were hunched over their keyboards or on the phone. He glanced around for Q, suddenly conscious of a knot of nervous tension in his stomach. He frowned to himself, then relaxed as he spotted the slim figure hunched over a monitor. His eyes glanced over his shoulders, they were remarkably broad really for his slight size, and moved down to his slim hips and his arse. His erection was immediate. Bond was glad that he was wearing a jacket. God it was beautiful. He wanted to put his hands on his hips and pull them toward him.

I want to fuck my quartermaster.

He turned his involuntary groan into a cough as Q straightened up and turned to look at him.

There was a momentary explosion, a blink and normality resumed between them as their eyes met. Bond replayed his reaction, no, nothing was given away, unless…

“Ja...Bond. Good to see you again. You startled me.” His eyes flickered, not looking at him at all, then indicating the monitor. “I was deep in code.” He smiled, his tongue flicking nervously over his lips. Christ, don’t do that thought Bond as Q turned to the coder.

“Is that okay? That should be a better sequence.” The man nodded, already deep in concentration.

“Shall we go over to my desk? I’ll get the file.” He nodded past Bond who had by now moved from licking Q’s lips and was now nuzzling his jaw as he’d turned his head. He didn’t move as Q walked towards him, skirting past a desk and brushing past him. Bond looked after him and blinked. He was sure that Q had definitely taken a wider than necessary path around the desk and hence they had made contact and their hips had brushed. He followed him, a flicker of hope rising, not that he dared do anything about it, since there were cameras everywhere and it was unprofessional. Not that either of those points had stopped him from anything in the past. He smiled to himself. It would be unfair on Q, he stood to lose more, it could cost him his career. He stopped behind him at his desk. Q picked up the file and the prototype, turned and showed his surprise at Bond’s closeness. He didn’t move however and held his gaze.

“Can I get you anything?” Bond arched his brow and grinned.

“What’s on offer?”He asked quietly.

Q swallowed, but maintained his gaze, his face registering a gamut of emotions as he considered his retort.

Me, his mind screamed. He held the file in front of his groin as he stared at Bond. When he’d heard his cough, he was startled as he wasn’t where he’d wanted to be, although bending over wasn’t so bad really. Their eyes had met and there was a momentary something, or was that just wishful thinking? He’d not been able to stop himself brushing past him, even though there had been plenty of room to pass, it was as though there were a magnet drawing him to James... Bond’s hips. He clutched the file tightly, Christ, he wanted him. His thoughts were distracted as he broke his gaze, his eyes flitting downwards to Bond’s groin, he couldn’t help himself. They flew back up.

“Tea or coffee?” He was sure he was erect, or was it just the light? “We could have it in my office.”

“Whatever you want.” Bond’s eyes flickered downward to the folder. “Are you going to show me it here, or in your office?”

Q desperately changed a low moan into a throat clearing exercise. Bond was definitely flirting with him, in the middle of his fucking office with all his staff around him and all Q wanted to do was pull him to him and kiss him and... He moved the folder up to his chest, his eyes on Bond’s face. His eyes didn’t move from his groin, and there was a soft intake of breath, then he slowly returned Q’s gaze.

“Don’t worry about a drink.” He took the file from Q and walked towards his office.

His erection was raging. When Q had moved the folder, he’d nearly come. He’d taken a huge risk doing so, but thank god, he was a clearer fucker and he’d read the signs. So the feeling was mutual. He grinned to himself as he walked into the office. A wave of lust and relief washed over him. He heard Q close the door behind him.

“There’s no audio, just visual.” He walked past him and sat on the edge of his desk facing Bond and looked at him. His erection was pushing at his trousers. Bond wanted to kneel in front of him and take him in his mouth. Instead he walked over and handed him the file.

“Perhaps you should cover everything.” Q grinned and opened the file on his lap.

“Bond, what are you up too?” Bond raised his eyes innocently.

“Nothing, just presenting myself for you to, ah, fill me in on any new developments.”

Q pondered. The file rested on the tip of his cock. He wanted to press forward onto it. Actually he wanted Bond to put his hands under the file and touch it. He was sure he’d come as soon as Bond touched him. This wasn’t a good place to be in, he should pretend that nothing was going on, brief him and dismiss him. He was an agent, a killer, doesn’t do relationships, fucks people, mainly women, for his job and most of them end up dead. However, he’s fantasied about having James Bond since the day he met him and now he’s standing in his office with a raging hard on. He knows that for sure as Bond unfastened his jacket when he entered the room and Q is trying hard not to stare.

“I can give you an outline of developments now. It’s probably best if you then go away and digest this info and we meet later if you have any further questions. We may need a more in depth discussion, maybe play out some scenarios.” He paused and cleared his throat. Dear god, he could hardly think straight. He wanted him so much.

Bond bit his lip. Q was torturing him, but in the best possible way. He smiled.

“That sounds like an excellent idea. Given the sensitive nature of the material, why not pop by my place when you’ve finished for the day? I could rustle up some food if you like.”

“Sounds good. I sometimes forget to eat.” He smiled.

“I can tell.” Bond smiled softly at Q and went to leave.

“Bond.”

“Yes?”

“You’d better read the file.” He passed it over and went and sat behind his desk and flicked on the monitor. He needed a distraction as Bond read. He looked up. Bond was looking at him. “Really.” He groaned and sat in the chair.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q is startled (among other things)...

He finished the encryption and glanced up. His neck protested at the sudden movement and he glanced at the time with a sigh. It was now nine thirty. He’d been there all day, Bond had left, the distraction had worked. Now that he was back in the real world, the events of earlier came flooding back, along with the warm flood of desire. He groaned. He’d wanted him so much, why did he need surveillance in his own office? It was so secure down here, that if anyone had got that far, the organisation was doomed and in reality, any attack would be virtual. Perhaps he should have a word with M about getting it removed. So that he could fuck Bond. A flush of heat swept through him. He ran his hands through his hair, then starting shutting down his work station. He was ninety nine percent sure that he hadn’t misconstrued his words and looks, subtle as they had been. To anyone who had watched their exchange, it was thirty seconds of dialogue before they went into his office. Entirely above board and normal behavior. To him, it was dripping with meaning and the fact that he had seen Bond’s arousal, indeed he’d made it clearer by opening his jacket, meant he was not mistaken. Bond wanted him too. He smiled to himself as his heart raced, James wanted him. At this point, he didn’t care if it was only going to be a quick, meaningless fuck, that would be enough. He’d taken a huge risk when he’d moved the file and his own interest had been so evident, Bond’s eyes had widened slightly and his breathing had definitely increased.

 

By the time he was outside and letting the cold night air wake him, he was beginning to have doubts again. Bond was their top agent, he could get away with anything, and often did. Censure was wasted on him. He didn’t know if he’d slept with any of his colleagues, so if he had, he was certainly discreet. It was more likely that he hadn’t, as no matter how careful you were, someone would know, that was their job after all. He had so much to lose, he loved his job. His footsteps wavered, he started in the direction of the Tube, then changed his mind and headed in the direction of Bond’s flat, it wasn’t far. He told himself that it would be better to have this conversation in person. His groin was insistently saying otherwise.

 

“The door’s open, come on up.” Bond’s voice floated through the intercom and his mind flashed back to their chats during the mission. He’d wanted to say so much more and their unspoken silences were eloquent at times, certainly to Q and also to Bond he was beginning to think. Had he wanted me during that time? Replaying certain moments as he walked up the stairs, he was sure that was the case.

 

He pushed open the door and entered the hall, closing it softly behind him. Pausing in the hall, he slipped off his coat and hung it on the coat rack and placed his shoes beside Bond’s. There was a curious intimacy in doing so. He licked his lips and realised his mouth was dry, his heart was pounding and his legs were shaking as he walked into the living room. Bond was at the far end pouring out two glasses of wine. He looked at Q and smiled, handing him a glass as he approached. His face was warm and relaxed. Q accepted the glass with thanks, trying to appear calm and in control. He raised it to his lips, catching the aroma as he sipped. It was good, very good. He took another sip, then caught Bond’s eye and gulped the rest. He put his glass down.

 

“Sorry,” he muttered, “I needed…” he didn’t finish he sentence. Bond had moved closer and placed his hand on his cheek, turning his face to him, tilting his head to kiss him. He moaned, unable to stop himself, Bond’s lips were gentle at first, softly touching his, then more firmly as the kiss deepened. He responded, unable and unwilling to do otherwise. God, it was so good, he tasted perfect. Bond placed his hands on Q’s hips and pulled him to him, they moved over his back and found his neck and his fingers buried into his hair and brought his face closer to Bond. His breath was rapid and soft moans escaped from his lips as they kissed. He had kept his hands by his sides, but then Bond slid his hand onto his arse and between his legs. At this he gave up any pretense of control, of ‘this isn’t going to happen’ and wrapped his arms around Bond’s back, his hands grabbing his body through his shirt. They pressed closer, their hips moving together, their cocks touching. He pulled his lips from Bond’s, they were wet and full, he’d bit his bottom lip softly, causing him to moan. He looked into his eyes, they were dark with desire, barely focused. His hand moved onto Bond’s hip, feeling the hard curve and the hollow leading to his groin. He started tracing it with his thumb as Bond ran his down Q’s spine. As he reached the base of his spine and the cleft, a phone rang. Q startled.

 

“Shit.” Bond frowned looking at the screen. “Sorry.” He answered his mobile. Q knew what it would be and pulled away, his breathing ragged and his frustration growing. Bond finished the call. “It’s a quick in and out kill, I won’t be long.” He saw the expression on Q’s face. He kissed him and stroked his hair. “Make yourself at home, have some food, I’ll eat what I get back.” His smile twisted mischievously. “Well, possibly not immediately.” Q laughed as Bond grabbed his jacket and gun and left.

 

Q walked back into the living room and sank into the nearest chair, reliving the feel of James’s touch. He wanted to put his hand on his cock and come, it would only take seconds. Instead he got up and poured some more wine and wandered in search of the kitchen. There was a pot simmering on the hob. He lifted the lid and peered in. Some kind of stew. It smelt good and his stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten all day. He served himself and ate at the breakfast bar. It was really good. James, he had to call him James now, had many talents. He wondered what he’d be like when they fucked, as that was now a certainty. How experienced was he with men? He didn’t anticipate it being an issue though, as he wasn’t holding back so far. Damn phone. He tidied up and decided to look around the flat. James would expect nothing less. They worked in intelligence gathering, for christ’s sake.

 

Bond entered the hotel corridor from the stairs. The target had been confirmed in room seventy nine and they’d sent an image so that he could double check. It was always a problem if they’d booked two rooms and an innocent had ended up dead. He’d put the silencer on his gun and tucked it into the back of his trousers. He thought of Q as he walked. Normally he would allow no distractions as he worked, but this could be done with his eyes closed. Q was definitely a distraction. He was hard again thinking about him. He’d looked like a deer caught in headlights when he walked into the living room. Bond had made himself busy when he’d entered to prevent him grabbing him and pushing him roughly up against the wall as soon as he arrived. He’d wanted to crush his lips to his and grab his cock. He wanted to make him come and fuck him, or possibly the other way round. He couldn’t think straight when he thought of Q. All he knew was he wanted Q and Q wanted him. He stopped outside the door. Right, concentrate. He breathed and knocked.

 

“Room service.” Yes, it could so obviously be a trap, but he thought the target was arrogant enough to believe he was safe. The door opened. Bond smiled charmingly and he pushed it open further. “Good evening sir.” He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and propelled him back in, taking out the gun with the other. The man froze.

 

“Get into the bed.” He did so. Bond placed the muzzle over his heart and pulled the trigger. The body slumped and James carefully brought the covers over. “Death by natural causes.”


	4. Chapter 4

Q had surveyed all of James books, records, art works and was now standing in his bedroom. It was tidy and smelt of him.The bed was made, but had been slept in. He looked at it, considering. Why not undress and be waiting for him, it was after eleven. That’s a bit forward though, he may not want to after killing. He was about to leave when he heard James enter. Well, he might as well stay where he was as James would see him leave. He started unbuttoning his shirt and slipped it off as he walked in.

James stopped and stared, desire sweeping him. Christ, he was beautiful. From that unruly mop of hair, those incredible green eyes, often hidden by his thick rimmed glasses and now his torso, so slim, but muscular and the way his abs curved into the waistband of his trousers. He stepped closer to him.

“James…”

“Q, I want you, I can’t stop thinking about you.” He paused. “Even when I’m working.” Q laughed at those words.

“Nor me, though it’s a little less risky if I’m distracted.” His mouth found James, it was hot and hard, he pulled him tight, his hands all over his bare flesh. His fingers found the gap between his hip and cloth and they moved across his groin, Q moaned in response, his fingers pulling at James’ shirt and tugging it off. James fingers found his cock and touched it gently, stroking its length.

“Christ, James, take me now.” His fingers tightened around the shaft as Q undid Bond’s zip and his fingers found James’ cock. He moaned too. The fabric was damp, Q’s fingers traced the wet and then inside the fabric finding the source of the moisture, his fingers on the tip. James pressed against him.

“Get on the bed.” They stumbled backwards, James pushed Q gently back and knelt in front of him, his hands undid his trousers, tugging the fabric down as Q lifted his hips. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He murmured as he stood again and removed the rest of his clothes.

Q’s breathed was ragged as he gazed at James’ naked body. He’d never wanted anyone as much as he did now. Part of him wanted to drag the moment out and savour it, but he was too close to wanting to come after all these months of tension, finesse could come later.

“Fuck me.” James got onto the bed and lay along side him with a smile.

“Patience my dear Q.” He ran his fingers along his abdomen and the length of his cock. Q shuddered and moaned.

“I’m going to come if you do that.”

“What about if I do this?” He grinned and bent his head, teasing the tip of Q’s cock with his tongue. Q moaned and bit his lip. “Or this?” He ran his tongue along the length of the shaft, watching Q’s response. He wanted to tease him too, take his time, but as with Q, it was becoming more difficult. He wanted to bury himself into his skin, suck him, lick him, fuck him, but the chances of him holding out once Q started on him were slim. His cock was aching as he took Q in his mouth, he could taste his pre cum, he wanted to taste his cum. His tongue licked around his cock and Q moaned and ground his hips. 

James stopped and moved up, pressing his lips violently against Q’s mouth. Q’s fingers wrapped around his cock and James moaned and thrust against him, his hands moving along the slick wetness of Q. Q’s legs slid around him and he moved his head and started working his hot, wet kisses along James’ torso and abdomen, his fingers exploring everywhere. He took him into his mouth and his cock twitched, he had to try to relax. He wanted to come, but not yet, this was too good. His fingers curled into Q’s hair, releasing its scent. He smelt so good. His tongue was skilled, he didn’t dwell on how he got so good, it moved over his balls and down between his arse. James bit his lip and Q paused and raised his head, his cheeks flushed slightly, he moved back up James’ chest.

“Sorry, I don’t know…”

“It’s fine, no, it’s incredible, I don’t care what you do.” His eyes stared openly at Q.

“What do you want?” Q whispered.

“You.” He smiled as Q grinned in response.

“Given your history, I wasn’t sure what you’d want of me, from me.” His eyes were dark as he stared at him, James was losing himself in them. He didn’t answer, but kissed him instead, his fingers sliding along his cock, the crease of his arse and feathering his hole. Q moaned and bent to him, his legs wrapping around James. “Like I said already, fuck me.” He paused. “Now.”  
James reached up and grabbed a tube of lube from the bedside cabinet and wet his fingers. Q laced his into James with a smile and kissed him. James eased a finger into him as Q moved against him and rubbed his fingers into his crease.

“Do you want me James?” He whispered as his teeth grazed his neck, nipping at the skin.

“God, yes, so much.” He groaned as Q’s fingers explored him, probing gently inside him as his other hand stroked his cock. He closed his eyes tightly at the sensations, he need to have him now. Q was pressing desperately against him. He applied more lube, this time to his cock and Q slicked it over the length of it and guided him. There was a slight resistance, but Q moved against him, taking him in.

“Oh, Christ, James…” His breathing was increasing as was his thrusting and James matched it. He felt so good. He held Q’s cock in his hand, moving along it as he thrust and Q dug his fingers into his arse and his world exploded. His body shuddered and released, his moans mingling with Q’s as his cum wet the space between them and over James fingers.

Q kissed him between breaths, his body jerking its release, coils of pleasure erupting across his stomach. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth and hardness of James body against him.

“Oh my god.”

“Indeed.” James nuzzled into his shoulder. “Fuck.”

He raised himself on one arm and traced his fingers through the cum on Q’s abdomen and brought his fingers to his mouth. Q watched him as he licked them. “I like the taste of you.” Q’s stomach flipped and he kissed him.

 

Q looked up as Bond entered his office to pick up his new equipment. He beckoned him over and indicated a button under his desk. Bond looked quizzical.

“It’s a new panic button. Starts auto voice and visual recording in case of emergency.” James grinned.

“Well, we’d better keep away from it then.”


End file.
